Memoirs of the best fucking detective ever!
WARNING: This is a true story. Believe me, cus I know where you sleep. ' Call me Ishfail. I was born in the middle of a Tuesday in the year 21XXX in the middle of the glorious New England Dick-Tatership, following the corporate takeover of everyone's sex life and the conversion of sex dolls with huge breasts into Money. My mother was a prostitute with no asscheeks and a hyperrealistic, talking clitoris witch was our president for life. My father could have been anyone, like the guy who insisted he was my dad, to the guy who invented WWII or Herpies or whatever, to Slenderman to Chuck Norris' evil love child that he secretly keeps in Area 51. (It's totally fucking true! TRU AH TELLS YER!) My childhood was normal. Every Sunday, we would wear our swing wings and walk around town, using them to kill the local cripples and Orphans. Why? Because fuck the damn freeloading hippies. We all know they secretly worship the Devil incarnate. My family were, of course, Sane worshippers of the lord and devourer Cthulu and even now I pray he'll eat me first so I don't have time to ponder my own worthlessness. Everything else from my childhood is essentially meaningless to the plot. In college, I smoked a literal metric ton of weed while eating a fresh Peyote salad watching reruns of this British show about a French dude called Parrot or whatever. The next day, I ate the world's hottest most hyperrealistic taco and created the world's first mountain of bloody diarrhoea, killing everyone inside, but since they were all openly racist and probably rich and inbred with snake noses and enormous asses, it was probably ok. It was then that the ghosts of King Leonidas, Ronald Mc Donald and Shrek the mighty destroyer of asses pulled me out of the wreckage and told me to become a detective. I never looked back. One day, as I and my close friend, Pill Cosby were snorting glorious crack off each other's cocks, we caught wind. After getting aroused by ''that ''and several shitter trips later, ''we heard from the Great Council of the Gods, how those evilest and ominous of criminals, Tony the Tiger (Those goddamn, motherfuckin' furries), Mr. Rodgers and my next door neighbour who keeps telling me about his fucking inverted double, bleeding COCK, had been spotted going on an airzooka shooting spree around the area known only as New Jersey. The Shooting Dildo capital of New England. You may not know this, but those 3 minions of the great and powerful god stoner Shaggy, are the cause for every horrible thing in your life. Rent too damn high? It's then. Vegans protesting outside your favourite restaurant? Them. That time your Mom and dad beat you with a belt made you blame it on falling down the stairs and then kept drinking and crying into the toilet? Them. Always. Fucking. Them. We knew at once that we were the only people who could stop this. We jumped into my pimped out Yugo, and peace'd the fuck out of my fabulous and not at all compensating for a small dick estate of gold and Orphan bones. Of course, to sharpen our fucking amazing brains, we drank Sonic.Exe brand Beer, brewed in the warm blood of the innocent, and we smoked the best fucking shrooms we could buy with Etherium. (Yeah, bitcoin never made it. Get THAT through your head without killing yerself, Phuckers!) We searched the streets night after day for about two and a half years, drinking and smoking without even breathing until we couldn't feel our spleens, our eyes turned into $5000,000,000 gemstones and the floating head of Kaiser Wilhelm came before us and turned us into our naked mothers. Nevertheless, we continued to hunt the bastards, taking no Bullshit from anyone. If they so much as looked at us, blinked at us, breathed near us or asked if we wanted help, We'd shove a baseball bat up their asses, deeper and deeper until they needed diapers fur life! The scum were taken downtown, the speakeasies were busted, the stool pigeons were iced, the widows gave us their husbands' shit, the Police Department told us to get lost, all those fucking cliches. Needless to say, the evidence kept mounting like a dog fucking his owner's leg. It grew into a 20,666-page file like the one that we'd totally use to clear Jim Cummings, like the one we did for Geoffrey Rush, Stan Lee and George Takei, (If Pil could just find the fucker, we'd show it.) We were sure it'd all work out in the end and we would hold a weed party at Mayor Satanfucker's place or something. But no matter how many sexual favours we offered to the police, they wouldn't take the findings. Eventually, after over 9000 weeks of sweet fuck all to help us, we became incredibly depressed. I mean like ''super ''fucking depressed. We became Emos and forgot how cheese works. We'd only play super serious games on the Xbox like Ninety-Nine Nights and The Sims 4. We also began trying to murder our iPod Touches while they slept, but only ended up stabbing our plush, Cotton Linen, $7000,000,000,000,000 Thomas and Friends pillows from North Korea. (And they ''were ''from fucking North Korea. '''I check to fucking receipts in this relationship! I''' do '''ALL of the net shopping! Seriously, if Pill comes here and tells anyone that they came from Djibouti, I will dump his goddamn kids in the river again!) Anyway, we pretty much closed the mansion after that and had the Power Rangers Megaforce and the Barney Bunch Patrol the house to make sure we never left. You know what they would have done to our asses had we tried to leave. Thanks to Mr. Weed and his hoe, Lady Acid, we soon forgot what that time existed. We would have casual sex during the day, sleep with our Waifu body Pillows in the afternoon and in the night, we just sat round in bed, in our early 90s pyjamas, eating month old Kettle Chips and watching "Follow that Bird'' on our 666 inch flatscreen on mute to the whole Demon Days album. Eventually and fortunately, we pulled our heads out of our asses and got back to work, but only after getting our asses whooped, kicked and otherwise beaten the shit out of by the ghost of Matt Foley as punishment for our sins. Eventually, thanks to our informants, Mainly Dr. Robotnik's shit stained underwear, Fluttershy and the talking Lichtensteinian rats in our basement who run the Illuminati and who in turn want to puree our nutsacks and force us to marry evil fucking armadillos from the Weinstein legal team, we discovered where they were at. The old abandoned Toys R Us in the middle of the bad side of the other bad side of the other OTHER bad side of the... -Bitchslap- Anyway, once we got inside, we totally fucked up all of the goons and cut their balls off with a blowtorch. Totally happened. And there they were. The fuckers who'd killed my parents by inventing McDonald's. As we stared them down, Tony and Mr Rodgers spoke up creepily, The latter first, then the former. It's a beautiful day for US, neighbour! And you're gonna get Rrrrrraped!" This was our chance. We jogged at them, yodelling, with our mighty, ornate, penis shaped, Hammer of fate and rubber in our left and right hands, and toting huge, fucking sawn-off AK-47s in the free ones. We laughed heroically, pissing ourselves as we let loose a shower of lead death upon our enemies, and their children, and our children's children and their children and their fucking little dog too! On that day, without a god damned doubt, I was the most awesome detective in the whole god damned world! I know, because Cthulu himself looked down on me and smiled and said. Yup. I'm gon' make you mah woman. I was happy, complete....Freeeeee~ So, with all that in mind....why the hell have I been locked up in a federal prison for life for rape, murder, sexual harassment, multiple genocides, Malicious Mischief, Cyber Bullying, Public intoxication/Indecency and spoiling Avengers: Endgame, along with some drunken, fat, incontinent, black afgan war vet, while some fucker in a white coat lays us on an operating table and pulls half our skeletons out through our chocolate starfishes? He says it's for the Pubic Saftey or some bullshit like that, something about us deserving it and being to evil and high to live but I just don't get it. If anyone knows what the hell is going on, like for example, why the sky is now blue instead of plaid and filled with dragons that dance like Carlton from Fresh Prince and reveal the best piss you ever had to everyone...well, just feel free to let me know. I'd figure it out myself but, My skeleton just popped out....BRB. Category:Pages with grammar that doesn't suck Category:Delusional retard that should be in an asylum Category:WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT Category:TRUE STORY Category:Well, that was anticlimactic. Category:PROOF DAT SLENDURMAN EXUSTS Category:SMOKE WEED ERRYDAY Category:Skeletons Category:Bad Fanfiction Category:Excessive Profanity Category:That just raises more questions! Category:The Title Is A Lie Category:NSFW Category:And then a skeleton popped out Category:Memes